Guardian Angel
by WeDidItForTheDead
Summary: They were strangers on the subway, but they didn't want to remain that way. But who would make the first move? 'He's not a god. He's not a devil. He's my guardian angel.' Happy birthday Nagihiko!


His stupid eyes stare at me once again and irritation floods me. I wasn't mad that this strange boy was looking at me, oh no. I was mad that I didn't have the balls to look back. Here we were, sitting in an empty train car heading no where. He was obviously interested, or at least curious, and all I could do was blush into my book. It wasn't even a book, but a gag manga. How uncool was that?

You see, usually I don't care. I don't care that it's strange for a girl to like comedy. I don't care that a good-looking guy is staring at me. But he wasn't just good looking. This boy was a god. His hair was longer than most girls' were, almost as long as mine. It was royal purple and flew in silky strands. Not one hair would move out of place when he would quickly glance my way. Those eyes would stay on me until he lost his nerve and finally looked away.

Oh, his eyes were heavenly. Most drab people would just call them brown, but they were so much more. They were amber, ocher, caramel… they were everything good and warm. One solid cover had never been so deep. I was attracted in a way that they pulled me too them, threatening to drown me, and I couldn't welcome it faster. Somehow, this boy had a power over me; a power I couldn't control.

The subway car rattled on the tracks, shifting us closer together. Neither one moved to regain the distance. "Sorry." He mutters from those sinful lips as our arms briefly brush. Oh God, how I want him to kiss me. I want him to be brave and grab me, and do all those things I loathed before. He needs to do it, not me. I am not stupid enough to take the blame. Instead, I watch the dull concrete skate by, gradually fading into darkness as we escape light.

Darkness is a common thing. We are born in it. We die in it. I live in it. A dark house full of dark people containing dark thoughts awaits me at the end of the line. Who was waiting for him?

Him, the boy next to me, the boy who once again glanced my way. It turned my attention to my manga, not really reading. A serious jolt knocks the book from my hands, surrendering it to the dirty floor.

In a gallant gesture, the boy retrieves it before I can even more the loss. The book is in my lap and he's smiling at me. Now is the time to say something, anything. I can't.

I stare down at the page containing bala- balance. I want to try it so badly, but I can't bring myself to expose that side of me.

I reach into my bag, bringing out chocolate Pocky. Why did the commute from school to home have to be so long? Actually, home was even farther. I really had no home. The house I live in with that scum is just

an address to prove I am human. Am I human?

The sweet biscuit snaps between my teeth as I take another bite. I can't stand it. I look at the boy first this time, and am relieved to find him asleep. The crescent moons of his eyelashes shadow his cheekbones, pronouncing his beauty in an unspeakable way.

The floor shook beneath my unsteady feet as I rose. Taking a deep breath, I centered myself. "Bala balance!" I threw all my weight into the spin, balancing on one heel. My body arced perfectly and my arms stretched, sending my fingers searching for air far, far away from here. They too wanted to travel somewhere else, somewhere safe, grasp on, and never let it go.

A chuckle emitted form behind me and a gasp escaped my lips. The pose was abandoned as I opened my eyes and met his. They glittered in amusement. "Well done."

Heat ate my face as red and yellow clashed. "How would you know?"

He elevated my manga. "It matched the picture perfectly."

"Give me that!" I snatched the paperback quickly.

His hands went up in the universal surrender sign. "Forgive me. I just wanted to help."

"I don't need your help." It came out as a snarl. Help usually meant that they wanted something or wanted you to see some professional that doesn't have a clue about real life.

He shrugged. I had insulted the god. I was too damn selfish. I really am a selfish person. I wanted his approval. I want him to kiss me. I… I really want him to help me. I guess selfish is as selfish does.

_Plip! _One small drop hits the page below me. Soon, many follow. I end up moving the book so as not to get it wet.

"Are you alright?" A hand touches my shoulder, light as music.

"No, I'm not." One shaking finger wipes my eyes. My tears are cold. "I'll never be alright."

Warmth envelops me. A weird noise comes from somewhere nearby. I'm whimpering. I can't seem to hold still. I'm shaking.

But he holds me. This strange boy that know nothing about me, or I him, is gently cradling me in his arms, not expecting anything in return. Where I was going, no one would do this for me. No one would care. Why does he?

"Hey, What's wrong? I'll help you." I cried even harder. No, please don't. Please don't be so nice.

I use my petite hands to gently separate myself from him. I hide my face in my blond curls. A slender finger lifts my chin. "Please don't cry. This won't last forever. Whatever's botherign you, it will be gone someday."

Everything he says is so nice. A watery smile splits my face and I know it's unattractive. "Thank you."

Those words are all I say as the train stops and he gathers his things. It's the second to last stop, right before mine. All the houses around us are big and glamorous. I could never compare.

Even though he must know this, the boy tenderly kisses my forehead and exits the train All I can say is, "Thank you," as he mounts the stairs as leaves me forever.

My stop is coming and I finger the knife in my pocket. It's better to be safe than sorry. This life will be better someday, but for that to happen, I need to fight today.

I need to survive today.

* * *

><p>"I'm not afraid of you."<p>

"Well, you damn well should be."

Three men approach, all in ratty clothing. That didn't stop them from looking menacing, not with their knives. But I've been through this before. I'd survived much worse.

Instinctively, I tied my hair up. My knife seemed to suddenly appear in my hand. My feet charged on their own.

One man was down with a swift kick to the stomach. Another swore as I slashed his arm. This might be too easy.

But no. The man with the bleeding arm swiped my feet from under me and managed to slice my cheek as I tried to dodge. The third man looked on with amusement.

My own knife made contact with my attacker's thigh, leaving a deep gash. He howled in pain before attempted to drive his fist in my face. I was faster.

On my feet, I dodged the fist and used his momentum to push him down. On his back, he was helpless. My boot crushed his hand. But my victory didn't last long.

Wiry arms trap me from behind, rendering my hands useless. The third man decided to join our tussle. The first man dragged himself upright with a sneer on his face. I was dead.

One burst of pain after another exploded into my stomach with every hit I took. I never screamed, I never cried. It would get better soon. If I wanted to survive until then, I needed to fight.

"Listen, bitch, I don't want you're money, I don't want your body. Tell me where Daddy is and you're free." Fucking liars. They'd kill me anyway. That's what happens when they think you're important to Daddy. They use you to piss him off. But I'm not important to him. I'm not important. I would have told them, I really would've, but I owed Daddy everything. I owed him this meager existence. Plus, I really don't know where he is.

I resent this life. I bet the boy on the train with the nice house never dreamed that anyone lived like this. He was too nice, too compassionate, too perfect. I want to see him again, when I'm better and not like this. I want to tell him that he predicted right. He had to be right.

I spit in the man's face. "Go to Hell." One more hit gets to my ribs, but this time, it is accompanied by a sickly crack. I let out a yelp.

"Excuse me, but is that really necessary?" We all saw the dark man. His dark hair flew like a banner behind him, illuminated by the moon. The devil had arrived, all in black, with the night sky silhouetting his sinful body.

"What's it to ya?" The man spit on the ground, barely missing my face. I growled.

"Go away! This doesn't concern you!" The shouting made my rib ache and I gasped from the pain. The devil stalked closer.

He was faster than he appeared, hurling my attacker to the ground as my capture watched, dumbfounded. Idiot, didn't he know he was next?

I ducked as knuckles flew above me, colliding with the jaw above. It provided a beautiful cracking sound.

The ugly old men didn't have a chance against this devil. He snatched a sharpened beam from the scrap pile behind him, swinging it with familiarity.

This would be fun to watch.

He beat them and slashed them, making them cry out in mercy. The second man woke from his knock out just in time to wish he hadn't. All three were limping home.

He turned on me, hair flying in the wind. Bad had never looked so good.

I expected a badass line or for him to threaten me. I really didn't expect for his arms to encircle me and for him to ask, "Are you okay?"

I shook my head dumbly. "My rib…"

His brown- no, caramel- eyes bore into mine. "Do you need some help?"

And then I recognized my savior. He was the rich boy from the bus. "Why…? Who…?"

His chuckle was as light as music. "I come down here sometimes. It's not easy being the heir to a fortune." His eyes scan his surroundings, seemingly at peace. They meet mine again and he smiles. "My name is Nagihiko Fujisaki."

I gasp. "As in the famous dance studio? What the hell are you doing here?"

Nagihiko shrugs. "Like I said, I like to get away." He averts his eyes. "And I kind of hoped you'd be down here." His smile stopped my heart. Please, someone call an ambulance before this boy kills me.

I shake my head. "I am so confused right now."

"Don't worry. I'll take care of you." He picks me up like a bride, as if I might break at any moment.

Everything is so weird. How'd he find me? Why'd he find me? How'd a rich boy learn to fight? Is he a god? Is he the evil?

As he carries me through the night, I relax and stop caring.

He's not a god. He's not the devil.

He's my guardian angel.

**Nexa&Alexenne: Happy birthday Nagihiko!  
>Ean: Gack! I'm an hour and a half late! I didn't finish either of the stories I was working on, so for somereason at 11:45 I decided to start writing this. Oh, well. Sorry, but I'm too tired to edit it. I'm too tired to think. I hope it turned out all right. It's been a while since I wrote without a basic storyline in mind and without interruptions. It's kind of nice. Please forgive me and good night!<strong>


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